Chapter 2
Kim picked up the fruit bowl and tipped the oranges into the overflowing ice box. One of them slipped from her grasp and rolled away. She cursed softly under her breath, then crawled under the table to fetch it. A grubby pair of jeans walked past, and she heard the fridge door open.
‘Jake, for the last time – go get your stuff.’
‘Where’s all the food gone?’
She stood up. Her son was wearing his sulky face. It seemed like he was always wearing his sulky face. Twelve going on fifteen. For the millionth time she was struck by how much he looked like Connor. The same chiselled lips, presently set in a stubborn line. The same high forehead and square chin. The same dazzling blue eyes. Sometimes the resemblance was unbearable. Jake’s fair hair curled about the collar of his polo sh
